A month passed by.

Or so Afsana guessed as she watched light turn to dark from the small window on the eastern wall of where she was confined, keeping a small count in her head.

She had been bathed once in this time, with French maidens giggling as they scrutinised her now bonier figure, a result of eating only bread and water. She'd been provided with one of the maid's dresses to change into, but refused and slipped back in her traditional attire, despite it's pungent smell.

It was in part to hold onto what she had left of her home and people, but also because she refused to let Catherine have the satisfaction of seeing her in servant clothing.

The rajkumari heard the door lock rattle as she finished her prayers, but did not bother looking that way. It was probably her lunch.

She kept her legs tucked beneath her on the floor, head downcast.

"Princess Afsana"

Hearing that  voice felt like lucid dream. It had been so long since she heard any male voice, let alone a familiar one.

She drew her head towards the entrance of her room.

He was there. Tall, lean with his jaw now ornated with stubble a few shades lighter than his messy brown hair. His green eyes were a pool of disbelief, wonder and relief as they drank each other in.

Her own almond and honey eyes reflected relief, but also another layer of emotion she could not quite put a finger on.

"Count Louis." She breathed.

Afsana tried to walk towards him as it finally hit her that she was not dreaming, but after having gone months without a good meal her body swayed at the sudden motion. But Louis stepped forward to steady her.

"Are you all right, your majesty?" He kept one hand on her shoulder and another on her lower back, as if they were about to waltz across a ballroom like when they first met.

"I- how did you- I can't-" There were so many thoughts in her head that they tried to push themselves out of her mouth all at once.

Before she could form a sentence, she heard another familiar voice.

"Rajkumari, Count Blois, we must go." Zia urged from the door.

Seeing her loyal companion, with her emotions already unstable, made her eyes sting with the possibilityof tears falling. The young guards hair was tied high, and purple marks surrounded his cheekbones, signs of his not quite recent beating.

"Zia, you're alive." She said, watching him over the Count's shoulder.

He shot her a solemn smile.

A moment later her words felt like a jinx, for a French guard charged towards Zia with a sword. The guard was quick to react, pushing his khandas into the man's gut before withdrawing it, all covered in blood.

The danger had not ended.

They could hear the stomping of feet from far into the halls, signalling they had to make a move if they were to escape.

"We must go, your majesty." Louis took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze before they began to ran the opposite way of where the guards were running from.

After so long in a plain white room, it felt like her eyes were drawn to every little thing they spotted along the path they ran. Zia was following them closely, watching the French guards as they came into sight behind them. Their  leading guard was the same man from the day of the kidnapping, he remembered. It took every ounce of self control for Zia to not stop and make an attempt to kill him.

"W-where are the other men?" Afsana uttered, struggling to catch her breath.

"My cousin Antoine refused to provide me with any men." Louis said. "It's just us."

The young majesty's heart clenched when she came to realise this meant that Louis had put his life in line. For her.

She didn't have time to thank him though, not with Zia urging them to go faster. But all to suddenly her legs buckled, and she fell awkwardly, dragging Louis partially down too as they still held hands.

"Get up, quick." Zia's voice held no menace, just urgency.

Count Blois stood, and lifted the princess to her feet too, and the three made to continue running. But in that moment, a bunch of guards appeared from the direction they'd been running towards.

The guards behind them closed in on them too.

Within moments, they were surrounded by French men.

Zia and Louis both frantically looked around for another way, but to their east and west there was nothing but an expanse of brick wall.

The guards in front of them parted in the middle, and from behind them emerged the Queen of France, in all her smugness.

"Count Blois, what a pleasure to see you here." Catherine's voice dripped with insincerity.

"You kidnapped a member of the Mughal Empirical family, and you still have the audacity to stand there as if you did no wrong." Louis said.

Catherine let out a bark of laughter, and let's a snarky smile rest on her lips."I am more taken aback by your audacity to break into my palace, complete outnumbered no less. Did you truly expect your escape would be successful?"

"I am sure of it." He said. "For if you don't let us leave, you will have war at your hands."

His statement makes Afsana whip her head towards him. He doesn't look back at her, but clenches his jaw in acknowledgement.

The princess contemplated over his words, wondered if it was merely a bluff. She hoped it was. She did not want her father to send innocent people to fight for one mere life.

"And who exactly is going to fight against us?" Catherine asked, still amused.

Afsana knew she had to say something, before France and the Mughal Empire entered into a battle her father was bound to lose.

"The Kingdom of Navarre and The Kingdom of England." His sharp words cut through the air.

Afsana froze.

Catherine stopped smiling.

"I beg your pardon?" The princess uttered first, and the queen wondered the same thing.

The Count of Champagne continued looking at the Queen as he spoke though.

"Navarre and England have entered into an agreement over Pondicherry. And part of it entices that the Princess must be saved, and if you do not let us go," His voice was now much more threatening. "We shall go to war."

The rajkumari's head throbbed.

Her mind could not make sense of any of what the Count was saying. What agreement was he referring to? What had been offered in exchange for her life, to make the English willing to go to war?

What was clear, however, was that there was no way for France to win.

They were powerful, but with attacks on two sides of their nation, there was no way they could ever win.

"And you have proof of this agreement, do you?" Catherine asked. It was her last card.

Louis slipped his hand away from Afsana's for the first time since they'd been reunited, and reached on the inside of his pocket, bringing out a white envelope.

It had Queen Elizabeth's seal.

He was not lying.

The Count threw the letter towards the Queen, and it landed by the edge of her gown.

"Now let the princess go."